May She Never Rest
by Nienna3
Summary: Chapter 4 up!A Harman witch from the Burning Times vows to rid the world of humans and in doing so becomes an Old Soul. Just before her death she sees someone beneath the trees-a beautiful stranger...but will they meet in her next life? Please rr!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: All night world ideas etc. belong to L J Smith. Most characters are of my own creation but the 'Harman' surname belongs to L J Smith and other characters of hers etc.. I own nothing of hers.  
  
Note: This is my first Night World fic so be nice. Next chapter up soon! Please R/R!  
  
Prologue  
  
Fern watched as the cart was pulled slowly down the road followed by mindless jeers and insults from the crowd. Fern said nothing. How could she include herself in this madness? She saw other ones of her kind among the angry faces, but all of theirs were filled with immense sorrow and regret.  
  
But they could do nothing. They could only stand back and watch as one of their kind was led to the gallows. Fern could see that the girl in the cart was trying to keep a brave face on, but the thought of what was to come was awful. But the girl never said a word or betrayed their secret-she kept silent.  
  
"Oh Betty, I'm so sorry," Fern whispered, although she knew that the poor girl couldn't hear her words. Betty was such a good friend to her, but she was so young. How could they possibly consider sending a girl of thirteen to the gallows? It was inhumane.  
  
Fern laughed bitterly to herself at the thought of it. Inhumane? But they were the humans, they were not of her kind. Her people had once tried to teach these barbaric people their ways and skills, to try to teach them the art of magic. But Circle Daybreak was quickly diminishing. And this is their reward, to be accused of worshipping the devil, of causing crops to fail, of making the milk go sour! Such ridiculous things! The daughters of Hecate used their powers only for good. Well most of us, she thought.  
  
All of her kind knew the tale of Hellewise and Maya, how sister was set against sister-the ultimate battle of good and evil and even though poor, sweet Hellewise fell, good triumphed.  
  
What I really should say is that the daughters of Hellewise only use their powers for good, she thought.  
  
The cart arrived at the wooden structure, away from the heart of the town. People crowded in before it, trying to get the best view. Betty was pulled out of the cart and dragged up the steps and placed before the people of Salem.  
  
"Elizabeth Williams you are hereby accused of worshipping the devil and taking parts in acts of witchcraft. Do you deny it?" The town magistrate demanded sternly.  
  
Betty said nothing and Fern knew that she was debating on whether to tell the truth. Oh by Hellewise please don't betray us dear Betty, Fern pleaded silently. She caught Betty's eye and smiled encouragingly, Betty smiled in return and then turned back to the magistrate.  
  
"Aye. I deny it," she spoke calmly and defiantly out to the crowd.  
  
"She lies! She's the devil's girl! We must rid the world of such evil!" An elderly woman shrieked from the crowd. Fern glared at her and felt a strong impulse to kill the silly old hag then and there.  
  
"Aye, she's evil!" Another shouted. "Hang her!" Screamed a young girl from the front. "Break her God forsaken neck!" A man who Fern recognised as the blacksmith cried.  
  
The executioner grabbed Betty by her upper arm and pulled her over to the stool. Her lifted her and placed her on it, while also placing a noose about her pale neck. Oh Hecate, how did it come to this? Fern thought, trying to hold back the tears. How many witches had been hung from those very gallows? How many helpless witches had felt the merciless touch of rope around their necks? Too many by far.  
  
Fern muttered a farewell spell beneath her breath, "Oh mighty Isis, send her safely on her way. Oh mighty Isis, send her safely on her way. Oh mighty Isis, send her-"  
  
Betty's small voice rang out over the crowd, "Oh merciful Isis, send me safely on my way and into your glory!" Fern gasped. Oh please say no one took that seriously; oh please don't let them turn on the rest of us. But her thoughts were interrupted by what happened next.  
  
Betty smiled at her people then jumped from the stool, leaving nothing but thin air between herself and the ground. Fern cried out in anguish, but no one took any heed to her. There was a great commotion among the crowd, and the executioner stared at the swinging body with a bemused expression upon his face.  
  
Oh Betty you shall be avenged, terrifying thoughts came into Fern's mind, in this life or any other, but I promised you that you shall not be betrayed.  
  
The crowd began to disperse as Betty's body was cut down and given over to her family. Good wife Williams sobbed into her daughter's limp shoulder and Mr Williams simply stared with hatred into the departing towns' folk. He was no witch, but he had gladly married one and now felt only malice towards his own kind. There was such a shortage of male witches in these parts and witches were often forced to marry human men to keep their lines going. But the men never found their wives' acts wrong. They were seen as part of the witches even though they were of human blood.  
  
Fern walked slowly down to the grieving parents as they held their lifeless daughter tightly. They took no notice of Fern as she mounted the gallows and stood silently upon the platform. The Williams walked off, Betty still in their arms, but Fern remained and scanned the area for any humans. No, they were all back at the town, carrying on with their lives as if they hadn't just robbed a child of her life. She quickly crouched, grabbing the fallen noose and placing it in her apron. This will come in handy if your life shall not be in vain, sweet Betty, Fern thought bitterly. She stood and descended to the leaf covered ground. Fall had fallen heavily upon Salem, leaving barely a leaf on a tree.  
  
Samhain soon, Fern thought, but its so difficult having circles out here. She turned and headed back towards her house on the outskirts of the town.  
  
"Miss Harman, how are you going?" A voice from behind startled her. She spun round and faced her greeter. It was Frederic Edwards-he was harmless.  
  
"Oh Freddie, its you. You startled me," she replied examining his face. By Hecate, he looked stupid. His eyes were dull and lifeless and he had a ridiculous grin on his face. He was about as interesting as a rock.  
  
"Sorry miss. It's a shame about young Betty aint' it? But we must make sure that we destroy all evil," he had a look in his eye that sent shivers down Fern's spine, "as it says in the good book 'thou shalt not suffer a witch to live' and if its God's will then we must see it through."  
  
"Indeed," she whispered, but all she wanted was to get away from him, "well Freddie, I really must be going. Good day to you."  
  
A look of hunger had begun to appear in his eyes. She turned to go, but was held back by a forceful hand upon her arm.  
  
"Oh but Miss Harman, I just want to talk to you," he laughed. The way he said 'talk' terrified Fern. She dreaded what he thought 'talk' meant.  
  
"Get off me Freddie," she whispered through gritted teeth, "before I scream and the whole town sees you assaulting me."  
  
He just smiled and pushed her closer to the woods. She stared in horror at his expression; it was definitely hungry and evil.  
  
"I've always liked you Fern. And I think that if you took the chance you could learn to like me too," he placed an arm roughly around her waist and held his face close to hers.  
  
She could feel his breath against her skin. Oh how it stank. There was no point in screaming now; no one would hear her. She was all alone with a creature of much more strength.  
  
"Freddie, I would never like you! Not if you were the last of your petty kind on earth!" And with that she kicked him hard in the shin and struggled out of his grip as he reached for his painful leg. She ran blindly through the trees, trying desperately to get away from the furious boy. Oh Aphrodite, how could he possibly think that she loved him? He was a foul creature. All humans were. They were vermin and there was no place for them in this world. It was the world of the night and should be ruled by people of the night, not pathetic humans who cried 'witch' at anything unknown.  
  
"You'll be sorry for that Fern Harman! Just you wait!" Freddie's voice rang clearly through the trees, but he had stopped following her. Fern clutched her side and breathed deeply, trying to find somewhere to sit. But in the end she just fell to the ground and stared up through the bare trees. The pale morning light illuminated her surroundings eerily and not a sound could be heard-not even the normal woodland sounds. Fern felt utterly alone and without a friend. None of her kind would approve of her wishes so she could not turn to them for guidance. She laughed aloud at her earlier thoughts of how the daughters of Hellewise only do good, well now that shall all change, she thought silently.  
  
She sat up and thought back to when she had discovered her mother's book of forbidden spells. There had been one that had disgusted her so much that she had subconsciously memorised it. Well now it would be useful for her future plans.  
  
She began to sing a song of attraction, of the attraction of the woodland creatures to her. Soon a small brown rabbit appeared beside her, she softly held out her hand and stunned it with her mind. That would be used later. But for now she had to find a way of getting the other ingredients.  
  
Then it came to her. There was a woodcutter's cottage around here; the old man scarcely came to town so Fern almost forgot him.  
  
Well, she thought, he will surely have the things I need.  
  
***  
  
She returned to the spot where she had left the motionless rabbit and set out her things. She had a wooden goblet, an ordinary knife and firewood she had collected from outside the house. She started a fire easily and began the ritual.  
  
"By my powers as the kin of Hecate, Hellewise and Maya I call upon the power of darkness to course through my veins," she spoke calmly, taking the rabbit and cutting its throat with the knife. "I offer this as a sacrifice to you so that I shall never rest until I have rid the world of the plague of humans." She poured out the rabbit's blood into the goblet and ignored the red liquid that landed on her own clothing. She held the goblet closely to her lips and began to drink. It was exhilarating. To feel the warmth and power flow through her like that. Now she had to finish the dedication.  
  
"Let this life force be a token that I shall strive through my lifetimes until I shall find such peace when humans are no more. May I, as my right as the superior race, let the world be rid of the weakness of humans. As I will it, so mote it be," she cried standing and flinging her arms out, causing the goblet to fly across the ground. But there was no blood left. Fern spun in a circle, willing the power to flow into her, as she deserved. She had never felt so powerful or so strong. She cast the lifeless body of the rabbit into the fire and pulled the rope out of her apron-she had forgotten about it. She cut off a couple of inches of the noose and placed it also in the dancing flames.  
  
"By the hanging rope of a murdered witch, may this power remain with me always," she whispered, watching the rope curl and blacken.  
  
She sat in silence for what seemed like hours. The small fire eventually went out, leaving only the rabbit's small blackened bones. She felt no guilt that she had just performed a forbidden spell. And it was forbidden to all witches, not merely maidens and it was punishable by death. She finally stood and kicked away what remained of the ash and bones. She threw the goblet and knife into the thick undergrowth and placed the remaining rope back in her apron.  
  
It's my right to this power, she thought defiantly; I am a Harman, a direct descendant of Hecate so therefore I need feel no guilt.  
  
The noon sun was already high in the sky and she knew that her mother would be worried in her absence, but she didn't care. She only cared for her great goal in life and all her future lives and the very thought of it made the power grow.  
  
***  
  
That night they sat for supper around the table and said little. The shock of Betty's hanging was still present in all their minds.  
  
"It could have been me," whispered Hazel, Fern's twelve year old sister.  
  
"Hush darling, we're careful enough folk. There's no reason for them to turn on us. We attend church as they do and we show none of our trues selves to them," their mother whispered, stroking Hazel's golden hair soothingly.  
  
"Betty was careful," Fern muttered, but her mother caught it easily.  
  
"Yes I know Fern, but you know how she often used to giggle in church. It was just her way and sadly it was her bane," her mother sighed and shook her head, "we just have to be extra careful from now on. The Inner Circle is thinking of ways to beat this threat."  
  
It'll never work, Fern laughed inwardly, I'm the only one who can do it.  
  
A loud banging on the door interrupted their conversation.  
  
"Who by Hecate could that be?" Their mother whispered. She answered the door and stood back, "how can I help you Mr Lockwood?"  
  
Mr Lockwood-the town magistrate. Oh dear Hellewise, what was in store for them? Fern thought, rising and joining her mother by the door.  
  
"Good wife Harman, you have been accused of witchcraft by members of the community and shall be-" He was cut short by Fern's cries.  
  
"No mommy, no!" She screamed, clinging to her mother.  
  
The magistrate ignored her and continued, "you shall be put to death by hanging tomorrow at dawn-"  
  
"Dear God no!"  
  
"-along with your eldest child," he resumed, "there shall be no trial. We have sufficient evidence from a trusted member of the community.  
  
Out of the shadows Freddie came forward, a hideous grin across his face. Fern almost leapt at him, but was held back by her mother.  
  
"Master Edwards claims to have seen you dancing in the woods and taking part in satanic rituals, do you deny?" Mr Lockwood asked.  
  
"YES!" Fern's mother cried, "there is absolutely no truth behind these accusations! My children and I are godly people Mr Lockwood. We've done no wrong!"  
  
"Mr Edwards also claims that he witnessed Miss Harman taking the rope from Elizabeth Williams' hanging. Now what use could there be for that except in the art of the devil?" He replied turning on Fern.  
  
"It's a lie! Freddie tried to-he tried to-he-" she stuttered, but finally screamed it, "He tried to violate me in yonder woods this very morning!"  
  
Her mother gasped and placed a comforting shoulder around her quivering daughter. Mr Lockwood turned to Freddie who looked as angry as Fern had ever seen him.  
  
"Now that is a lie Mr Lockwood! She's in league with the devil! Don't believe nothing she says for it aint true!" He cried, "I saw her take that rope this morning and I followed her to warn her from her heathen ways! But I never touched her-she's barely sixteen! And the rope-the rope's in her pocket!"  
  
Fern stared down at her woolen dress and the large pocket at the front. She had removed most of the rope and placed it in the chest beneath her bed, but she had left the knot there for good luck. It couldn't be seen from the outside because of the thickness of the material, but Freddie soon pulled it out. He plunged his hand into her pocket and pulled out the knot-it was about as big as her fist. She screamed and leapt back as he touched her.  
  
"Don't you touch me! You fiend!" She shrieked as Mr Lockwood examined the knot. He shook his head.  
  
"Now why would you have her hanging rope Miss Harman?" He asked sternly.  
  
"I-I-I-" she looked to her mother, who had a look of disappointment on her face, "I-Betty was my best friend! I needed something to remember her by! She was just a child and you killed her!"  
  
"And for good reasons! Were you her accomplice in these heathen acts? Were you?" He shouted, gripping her shoulder.  
  
She stared down at his brown, wrinkled hand. I should kill them both right now, she thought, I know I have the power to do it.  
  
"Never," she spat, gripping her mother tighter and Hazel, who had joined them by the door.  
  
"No more talk. The evidence is enough. You two shall be put to death ere noon tomorrow," he replied, taking Fern's mother's arm roughly.  
  
"What of my other child? What of Hazel? My husband died last winter and now us-what shall become of her?" Fern's mother demanded, pulling Hazel to her closely. Fern stared down at Hazel in pity, the young girl was crying endlessly into her mother's arm. She shall be the last of the Harman line, Fern thought grimly; she must not let us die out.  
  
"The child shall be placed with a good Christian family where she shall not be exposed to your ways," he placed a sturdy hand upon Hazel's shoulder, but she shrugged it off.  
  
Fern's mother just stared at Mr Lockwood carefully, not taking her eyes off his. She's trying to control his mind, Fern gasped mentally, and she's trying to put thoughts into his head. Fern had never been able to do this to a human, and she had no idea that her mother could either. But she couldn't change his mind drastically enough to pardon them, so what was the point?  
  
"The child-the child shall be placed with the Hickmans, they're good folk," he said faltering.  
  
The Hickmans were a family of pure blood witches, as were the Harmans-they were the best people for hazel to go to. Her mother had known it too.  
  
"Come now, you are to spend the night in the town jail until tomorrow. Frederic shall escort the youngest to the Hickmans," he took Fern and her mother by the shoulders from behind and pushed them to the cart. Freddie was walking next to them, holding Hazel's hand.  
  
"Don't you touch a hair on her head Freddie-I mean it," Fern whispered once she was in the cart. She would kill him if he did anything.  
  
"Aw I wouldn't to that Fern, I'm done with you Harmans," he replied, stroking Fern's own chestnut curls. She batted him away and spat on his face.  
  
"You're the scum of the earth! All of you are, my people are the ones who will win in the end! Just you wait!" She replied furiously.  
  
He shook his head and wiped the spit from his grubby cheek, "you're crazy. Anyway I told you you'd be sorry for that little incident in the woods."  
  
That he whispered just for Fern to hear. She glared at him as he led Hazel away. The little girl was screaming and trying to run back to her mother and sister.  
  
"Go baby! Be safe! Never forget who you are!" Her mother cried, tears falling down her own face.  
  
Fern was silent and only stared out into the night, planning her vengeance on this diabolical race. I won't be able to fulfill it in this life, Fern thought, but I will live again in another. I'm an Old Soul now-the spell made sure of that. Fern had heard stories of Old Souls before, people who continued living through countless lives and it was only possible for witches and humans to do so. But there weren't many Old Souls, but such rituals as the one in the woods could make you one. But her poor mother would never come back, unless she too was an Old Soul and that was very unlikely.  
  
She gripped her mother's hand tightly, but they said nothing. Fern didn't want to explain about the rope, and she felt that her mother understood at least. That was all Fern needed, for her mother to not die blaming her own daughter.  
  
Fern looked back at her house and sister as they went off into the night- she would never see her again.  
  
***  
  
Fern stood silently on the wooden platform and stared out over the bloodthirsty crowd. They get pleasure from seeing people hanged, Fern thought grimly. The night in the cell had been the longest night of Fern's life, but now the morning had arrived. Her mother stood silently next to her as the crowd jeered and shouted at them. Fern looked out over the people she now referred to as 'vermin' and tried to find friendlier faces.  
  
All the witches were stood at the back of the crowd silently. Fern saw the Hickmans but Hazel wasn't with them. Fern was glad; she didn't want her to see this. She smiled at the Williams, who stood away from the main crowd and they smiled back. She wanted them all to wish her and her mother well as they left the world.  
  
But someone she didn't recognise caught her eye, a young boy beneath one of the surrounding trees. He was the handsomest boy Fern had ever laid eyes on, he had long raven coloured hair pulled back into a ribbon and even from the distance Fern could tell that his eyes were bright blue. She could tell that he wasn't a witch, but there was something not quite human about him. A shapeshifter? No, Fern had seen too many of those to mistake him for one. What was he? He definitely wasn't human, she knew that for sure, so what was he?  
  
Then it came to her. He was a vampire. Fern couldn't tell whether he was of the lamia or had been made, but she was sure that he was a vampire. She had only seen a vampire once before in her life, they were very uncommon around these parts, so where had he come from? The last vampire she had seen when she was ten years old. He was a rogue, just passing through the town, but in his way he had left half a dozen bloodless maidens behind, including two witches.  
  
But this vampire didn't seem like that, from what Fern could see; instead he had a look of pure pain and sorrow on his face. He stared back at Fern and his expression changed to pure longing. Oh I wish I had known him, Fern thought, but maybe I'll know him in one of my next lives after all he is immortal.  
  
"I'll come back when I wake-find me," she tried to direct these thoughts towards him, but these kind of powers weren't strong in her.  
  
He looked startled but then nodded. Vampires had incredible telepathic powers.  
  
'I would save you. I've searched for you for hundreds of years-I'd kill them all for you, but there are just too many,' she heard his voice inside of her head, it was full of anguish and grief.  
  
She smiled at him, 'I understand. But I'll come back soon-in another life. Find me-I'll wait.'  
  
Mr Lockwood's voice rang through her head, reading out their charges. She said 'aye' when he asked if she denied it and remained silent as she was placed on the stool and as the rope was fitted around her neck. She wasn't afraid-she had more lives to look forward to, lives with this beautiful stranger.  
  
Then a thought came into her mind, 'wait, I don't know your name.'  
  
'My name is Morgan. I'm your-'  
  
But that was all Fern heard. The stool had been kicked out from beneath her.  
  
***  
  
Fern Harper sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Pale morning light shone through her thin curtains as she banged her fist against the alarm clock. Damned thing, she thought bitterly. Ugh, Monday-her favourite day of the week, the day when the weekend is over and you have to go back to school. She hated school, she hated socialising, and she hated people. Everyone just seemed so stupid and worthless to her, she couldn't believe that she was actually one of them. She never felt like she belonged with them, she never felt like she fitted in. All she wanted was to be something other than human.  
  
She hated humans.  
  
Please read and review-next chapter up soon! 


	2. Do you remember?

Disclaimer: All concepts of the Night World and certain characters belong to L J Smith. But most of the characters here belong all to me. Hahaha!  
  
Note: Thanks to all who reviewed the first chapter. You have no idea how much I appreciate your comments. All friendly criticism is welcome of course. How can I get better without advice? Well here's chapter two . . .  
  
Do you remember?  
  
Fern pulled her jacket tighter around her as she walked up to the main building. It was half way through September and summer was being rapidly replaced by fall. She stared at the golden leaves falling lazily from the trees and settling lightly on the grass, it was a strangely beautiful sight- so simple yet so compelling. She often noticed things like this, the beauty of nature and things. It was something that she found so unspoiled, so untouched by destructive human hands and she always wanted to keep an image in her mind of this beauty before it was wholly wiped out.  
  
The cold wind battered her delicate chestnut curls, causing them to soon cover her face and obscure her view.  
  
Ugh, for God's sake! She thought angrily, just please let me get through this week before I kill myself! But she did have one thing to look forward to soon. Her birthday was on October 3rd. She would be turning sixteen at last. It seemed like an eternity from her last birthday when she was trying to keep an optimistic view on the upcoming school year. But it was all in vain. She hadn't enjoyed a moment of it.  
  
The only relief was the fact that her best friend had returned from Europe the previous week, having spent the entire summer there. Well 'best friend' was a bit much. They were friends-definitely. They had grown up together, but that never seemed enough. Violet was so secretive and quiet. Beautiful but quiet. Fern had hardly been over her house in the ten years of their friendship and she had met Violet's parents like three times. Violet lived on the other side of town so she usually kept herself to herself.  
  
It was a shame because Fern saw Violet differently to other humans-she seemed so much more than others. Fern used to think that she wasn't a human when she used to play with Violet when they were young. Violet was just so beautiful and distant that there was something not human about her. But Fern knew that that was silly now. Of course Violet was human-how couldn't she be?  
  
Fern made her way towards the school building, staring at the surrounding golden trees against the grey morning sky.  
  
Blue eyes beneath the trees.  
  
Fern faltered in her step and grabbed onto a nearby bench. A senior stared at her as if she had two heads or something, but Fern just scowled at him.  
  
Whoa, what was that? She asked herself mentally.  
  
The thought had come to her so quickly and without warning that it had taken her breath away. But it hadn't just been a thought. An image had flashed in her mind, but vanished the next second. She had seen two startlingly blue eyes beneath a haze of golden leaves. She hadn't been able to see who the eyes belonged to, but she had sure as hell seen them.  
  
She looked quickly around. There were no people standing beneath the trees and she had in fact passed the trees when the vision came to her. Okay well that was definitely odd, she thought and straightened herself up and turning towards the school.  
  
The senior was still standing there staring at her.  
  
"What?" She asked impatiently.  
  
"Man, you're weird," he walked off shaking his head.  
  
God humans are so stupid, she thought bitterly, why don't they just get a life? She hated being counted as one of them; it was degrading to herself.  
  
She sighed and hurried up the main stairs to the entrance. One whole more day stuck in a building full of half-minded school kids. She couldn't wait.  
  
***  
  
Fern descended the stairs quickly so she could get away from the place as soon as possible. The school day was over and she could finally go home and have a long bath and forget all about school and the awful day she'd had. All she wanted was for the evening to last forever so that the morning wouldn't come and she wouldn't have to face another tiresome day among such annoying people.  
  
Just as she was bending down to tie a loose shoelace she was knocked over by a clumsy junior who ran into her.  
  
"Hey! Watch where you're going asshole!" she called after him as he continued rushing.  
  
"Yeah, yeah whatever freak," he grinned maliciously and turned to keep going.  
  
God I could just kill him, she screamed mentally, to be so obnoxious and immature. He deserves whatever he gets.  
  
She was getting up and brushing herself down when she heard laughter from somewhere ahead. She looked up to see a boy pointing and laughing at someone sprawled out on the ground. She walked over curiously. It was the kid who had knocked her over! Huh, would you believe it? He was lying face down in the mud motionlessly. He deserved it.  
  
She walked away leaving the boy to get himself up; it was none of her business. But it had been kind of weird. One minute her wishing him harm then the next him falling over. Could she have had anything to do with it? Shut up fern, she scolded herself, it was a coincidence.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a figure moving quickly among the thick trees. They were too fast for her to see their face, but something was familiar about their movements. She laughed and wondered what they could be doing in the trees.  
  
"Violet? What are you doing?" Fern called, making her way towards the trees.  
  
Violet emerged looked baffled and slightly anxious. "Uh, hi Fern. Sorry, but I thought I saw someone I knew in there," she replied waving a hand towards the trees, "never mind."  
  
"Right. How come you weren't in today? I had to get through double chemistry without you!" Fern demanded jokingly, moving away from the woodland.  
  
"I-uh-felt ill this morning so my mom said I could stay in bed. But I'm better now," she smiled nervously, fiddling with her silky ebony hair, "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out or something."  
  
"Yeah cool, that would be fun. Where do you want to go?" Fern asked studying Violet's expression. There was something wrong in the girl's eyes, something off-putting. They were the normal icy violet colour that they had always been, but there was a hint of fear in them now. She was about to ask about this when Violet spoke.  
  
"Anywhere. I don't care. But I quickly have to see Mr Taylor about history. Will you wait five minutes?" She asked walking towards the school.  
  
"Yeah sure. I'll be by the gates," Fern called after the girl who was already nearing the building.  
  
Fern turned and continued walking down the path. That was normal Violet- always distant and hurried, not wanting to make unnecessary conversation. Fern sat down on one of the wooden benches by the main gate and studied her surroundings. Most students didn't use this entrance, but instead went through the parking lot and out the back way. But this way was closer to Fern's house so she always took it. This meant that it was relatively quiet, with only a few people walking by.  
  
Within five minutes of Violet's absence there was no body about. All the kids who took this route had already passed and Fern was all alone. But she liked it that way. The quiet and peacefulness of her surroundings didn't need the hustle and bustle of human activity and Fern was content to just sit and think.  
  
She hadn't thought about that image in her mind all day but now that was all she could think about. What had it been? She had never met someone with such drastically blue eyes before-they had seemed unreal in a way. Oh well, she thought, no need to worry about it. It's probably nothing.  
  
"Fern."  
  
Fern jumped at the voice coming from behind. It wasn't Violet's and Fern had heard no footsteps approaching. She turned slowly to face the person.  
  
She gasped. Those eyes, she thought, those blue eyes. But that wasn't all that was startling-the boy standing before her was so amazingly gorgeous that Fern felt her heart skip a beat.  
  
His hair was the same colour as a starless black night, the same pure darkness. It was slightly wavy but not very long, tousled and falling lightly onto his forehead.  
  
His hair should be long, Fern thought without warning. Where had that come from? She asked herself angrily, you've never seen this guy before so don't begin judging his style!  
  
He had a lean, toned body beneath a black sweater and a pair of baggy jeans. He just looked so out of place for some reason, as if, because of his beauty, he should be some where so much better.  
  
But it was the eyes that kept Fern silent. The outrageously bright blue eyes that were so deep and endless-Fern felt as if she could just fall straight into them.  
  
"Fern? Please say something," he whispered, stepping closer so he was barely a foot away from her.  
  
She stood, but didn't back away-she felt no need to.  
  
"How-how do you know my name?" She stuttered, not taking her eyes of his.  
  
"It's really you. Oh God it's really you," he looked as if he might have burst into tears any moment; the look of sheer joy in his eyes was overwhelming.  
  
"I-uh-do I know you?" She asked, trying to dig back into her memory in search of him. But how could she forget someone like him? It was impossible.  
  
"No, but you once did. Try and remember Fern, you said you would wait for me. Now I've found you," he replied placing a gloved hand lightly on her cheek.  
  
She didn't flinch or recoil, but instead shook her head sadly. She didn't know him-she wished she did, but she just didn't.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry," she sighed, "but I've never met you before, so I couldn't have said that. You've obviously got the wrong person, Morgan, or you're just-"  
  
She broke off. Morgan? Where the hell had that come from? It had just come to her, as if she'd known it all her life. She knew it was his name as well as she knew hers was Fern.  
  
He smiled and took hold of her hand gently. "You're beginning to remember. Just dig deeper and you'll know me."  
  
She stared up into his eyes, he was about a head taller than she was but she didn't feel intimidated. In his eyes was a longing so strong that it took Fern's breath away and she just wanted to hold him there and then, there was something so familiar about him and she felt exactly the same as he felt. Pure and genuine longing.  
  
"Where have I seen you?" She whispered, gripping his gloved hand tightly.  
  
He sighed and gently pushed a wisp of chestnut hair from her face. "Long ago. Very long ago," he smiled still stroking her cheek; "You slept so long this time. But I knew you'd come back. Now there's nothing to keep us apart- I wont let you go."  
  
Normally if a complete stranger had said this to her Fern would have freaked out and ran. But with Morgan she felt no need to, she felt safe with him and he sounded so absolutely overjoyed in seeing her.  
  
"I've seen your face. . .so long ago," she said in a barely audible whisper. She nearly had it; she could nearly place where she knew him from. It was a brief meeting far back into the past, but he hadn't seemed to change during the years. But that didn't trouble her-it seemed unimportant.  
  
"Morgan. . ." she lifted her hand to touch his pale, beautiful face, "you came back, I knew-"  
  
"Fern!" A voice shrieked from far away. Fern turned quickly, before she had reached his face. It was Violet beckoning her over, pleading with her to go to her.  
  
What could she want so drastically? Fern thought, annoyed to have her chain of thought broken. Any conclusion she was coming to about Morgan was gone- she still had no idea who he was.  
  
She felt his hand pull out of hers quickly. She turned back round to face him, but only to see him disappear into the trees.  
  
"Wait! Morgan!" She called after him, making towards the trees to follow him. But she was held back by a frantic Violet.  
  
"No Fern! Please, come on-we've got to get out of here," she pleaded, gripping Fern's arm.  
  
Fern sighed. Morgan was gone. And she still didn't know how she knew him.  
  
'I'll come back,' she heard his voice in her head as clearly as she heard her own thoughts. She gasped. How was that possible? Was that really him? In her mind?  
  
She didn't know why, but she decided not to tell Violet about whose last words. She wouldn't believe her anyway.  
  
"Please Fern! Come on! We'll go back to your house," Violet was already dragging Fern through the gate.  
  
Fern pulled out of her grip. "What's wrong?" She demanded, still irritated for being dragged away.  
  
"You can't talk to-to . . .him!" She cried signalling to the trees where he'd vanished.  
  
Fern was shocked. Did Violet know him? "What do you mean? Why not?" She replied quickly.  
  
"We can't talk about it here," she whispered, but continued at Fern's expression, "not here! But I swear that when we get back to yours I'll explain everything. Okay? Everything."  
  
"Fine, but hurry," Fern sighed looking up to the oncoming dark clouds, "it's going to rain."  
  
The two girls jogged quickly down the road and round the corner, it wouldn't take them long to get to Fern's house.  
  
***  
  
"Okay Violet. You've got A LOT of explaining to do," Fern was sitting on her bed, staring at Violet who sat sheepishly on the window seat.  
  
Violet sighed deeply and shook her head. "You're right. And I'm sorry for startling you back there. But when I saw you with him . . .I guess I just freaked out."  
  
"But why? Do you know Morgan?" Fern asked, trying to ignore the howling wind outside her window.  
  
"Oh God, you know his name. I didn't realise you'd spoken for that long . . ." Violet replied almost inaudibly.  
  
"Violet get to the point! Why shouldn't I see him?" Fern cried at the pale girl across the room from her.  
  
Violet always looked so timid, so shy and this time was no exception.  
  
She took a deep breath. "Because he's-he's bad news."  
  
"Bad news? What are you talking about?" Fern whispered, remembering that kind face filled with joy at seeing Fern. How could he be 'bad news'?  
  
"I met him over the summer in Europe and he isn't the nicest of guys," Violet replied staring out of the window, "he's done some pretty awful stuff."  
  
Fern was getting annoyed; Violet never explained things clearly. "What on earth are you-"  
  
"No! Let me finish," Violet interrupted before Fern could continue, "there's something you should know. You know how you've always felt as if you didn't belong in normal life, with normal people in a normal society? Well there's a reason for that."  
  
Violet was silent. Fern was bewildered. What the hell was Violet on about? She couldn't just end it like that. "And???"  
  
"Uh-it's complicated and you must promise not to freak out on me," she replied looking up to Fern who nodded impatiently, "uh-Fern? You're a witch."  
  
That wasn't what Fern was expecting.  
  
"WHAT?!?" She shrieked staring at Violet in horrified amazement.  
  
"And-and that's not all," Violet whispered shaking her head, "that boy Morgan-he's a vampire."  
  
***  
  
Well that's chapter two. PLEASE review and tell me what you think, I beg of you! I wonder what's going to happen between Fern and the mysterious Morgan. . .tune in next time to find out! Lol. I'll update very soon. 


	3. Stirring Memories

Disclaimer: All of L J Smith's characters/ideas belong to her but MY characters belong all to me!  
  
Note: Thank you for all your reviews-they are very important to me and help me write. And as you probably guessed Fern is a lost witch as well as an old soul. Please R&R!  
  
Stirring Memories  
  
Violet stared sheepishly at the burgundy rug on Fern's wooden floor. Her dark hair had fallen to cover her snow like skin like a curtain. Fern on the other hand sat silently on the bed staring at Violet in disbelief. Had she heard her correctly? She couldn't have . . . there were no such things as witches or . . . vampires.  
  
Fern gulped. "What did you say?" She said in no more than a whisper.  
  
Violet didn't look up. "He's a vampire-a real one. They exist."  
  
Fern laughed nervously. She could feel hysteria creeping up on her quickly. Violet couldn't be serious.  
  
"You're joking right?" Fern asked, but she was doubtful-Violet was always serious.  
  
"No." Violet shook her head and finally met Fern's eyes. Her deep violet eyes were sympathetic and worried-she wasn't joking.  
  
"But-but they don't exist. They're stories," Fern replied quickly, unable to stop the flow of words. Hysteria had taken hold of her. "Like- like Dracula . . . that's a story written by that Stoker guy. Vampires are fiction-no one drinks peoples' blood. Well except psychos who do . . . but they're not vampires. Vampires don't exist. It's not possible." She could feel the room spinning around her. She stared at the walls as they moved- they were red. She had liked the colour, but they were blood red. They seemed to drip blood onto the floor before her eyes.  
  
"Oh God," she whispered as she felt herself fall back onto the quilt.  
  
Then there was only darkness.  
  
***  
  
Fern opened her eyes. The red walls were gone. So was Violet. In fact, Fern wasn't in her room. She was standing on some sort of platform with a large crowd before her. What the hell is going on, she thought taking in her surroundings. She stared out over the crowd-she didn't know anyone and they were all dressed in old-fashioned puritan clothes.  
  
Fern was getting more and more anxious. Where was she? There was a woman beside her-she had and expression of grief and regret on her beautiful face. Fern wanted to comfort her. Why was this woman sad? And why was the crowd jeering at her?  
  
They're jeering at me too, Fern thought suddenly, they're jeering at me and the woman. She looked frantically about her, looking for something familiar but to no avail. She was in a completely alien place-she knew nothing.  
  
She automatically turned her head as she heard a mental voice in her mind. Those eyes. It was him. He was speaking to her mind again. But she wasn't listening to his voice-something was being placed around her neck. She looked up in horror.  
  
It was a rope.  
  
There was a noose around her neck. She was going to be hanged. She began to scream at the people around her, trying to reason and plead with them. Why were they doing this? The woman beside her was going to die too . . . but she was silent. No one was listening to Fern's desperate cries-not even Morgan. Everyone was ignoring her.  
  
She looked to Morgan desperately.  
  
"Morgan! Morgan, please! Help me!" She screamed trying to reach out to him, but her hands were bound.  
  
She could still hear his voice in her head but she wasn't listening, she was only concentrating on getting away. He was making no movement as if to help her. He just stood beneath the trees looking sad.  
  
She was still screaming-unlike a scream she'd ever heard before. How was this happening? She didn't want to die.  
  
"MORGAN! Help me for God's sake!" She shrieked, tears falling rapidly down her cheeks.  
  
All grief suddenly left his eyes and he looked directly into hers. He looked shocked and began to run towards the gallows.  
  
But Fern had already begun to fall back into the darkness.  
  
***  
  
Fern opened her eyes. The crowd was gone. The feeling of rope around her neck was gone. She was inside somewhere. Warmth flooded her-she was in a bed. She had never felt so relieved-she was back in her room, in her bed.  
  
She tried to focus her vision. She wasn't in her room-she was in a different room. In a room she didn't know.  
  
She looked around. It was a very large room with expensive looking furniture and drapes. It reminded Fern of period dramas like Pride and Prejudice-it was the same style.  
  
At least she didn't seem in danger-no one here seemed to want to kill her. She turned over in the four poster bed, feeling the silk sheets against her bare arms.  
  
He was here. He was sitting by the bed and before she knew it he was clutching her hand. He was crying too.  
  
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't get here earlier," he whispered kissing her hand over and over.  
  
What was he talking about?  
  
"I could make it go away, but I don't want you like that. It'll be over soon-I'll stay with you until you are sleeping." Tears were still falling down his face.  
  
Fern wanted to speak but she couldn't. She felt too weak. Instead she just coughed and felt the heat taking over her body.  
  
I've got a seriously bad fever, she realised trying to stop herself from coughing.  
  
What was wrong with her? Why did she feel like crap? Morgan didn't seem to be answering any questions with whatever he was saying.  
  
"I wish I could have been her longer-I would never have let you get so ill," he sighed, stroking her cheek.  
  
She could feel warmth emanating from his fingertips-it sent shivers down her spine. Sparks seemed to swell between their skin and Fern felt terribly comforted. She didn't care if she was sick-she would get better.  
  
But she was still confused about what was going on. Where was she? Why was Morgan so sad?  
  
But another burst of coughing interrupted her thoughts. She felt so hot, but at the same time she felt as if she was sitting in a tub of ice.  
  
Someone else walked into the room-an old man with a grave expression on his face.  
  
Morgan stood up quickly and hurried towards the man. "Is there nothing you can to for her doctor?"  
  
Doctor?  
  
The old man shook his head. "The fever has taken hold of her. If I bleed her it will finish her-it's best to let her go."  
  
Let me go? Fern thought anxiously, what did that mean? She dreaded to think, but she knew the answer.  
  
The old man looked sadly at Fern, shook his head and left the room.  
  
Fern grabbed Morgan's hand and gathered enough strength to speak.  
  
"Morgan . . ." she whispered, "please don't let me die-not again. I don't-"  
  
She lay back and coughed. She felt something warm on her lip and chin. She placed a weak hand to her mouth and looked it. It was blood-she was dying.  
  
She took one more look at Morgan, taking in his beautiful features again. He was breath taking. That was the only word to describe it, he was the most gorgeous person she had ever seen. But now his eyes were filled with shock and concern. He was gripping her shoulders and holding hid face close to hers.  
  
"Fern! Fern, can you hear me? You have to wake up from this dream-you don't want to see any more! WAKE UP!"  
  
***  
  
"Fern! Fern, please wake up!" Someone was crying and gripping her shoulders.  
  
Fern kept her eyes closed. Was she dead? Was she still alive in the bed with Morgan beside her? But as her head cleared she could tell that the voice wasn't Morgan's-it was Violet's.  
  
She opened her eyes. She was in her own room with the blood red walls and she was lying on her own woolen quilt-not silk.  
  
She sat up slowly and tried to remember what had happened. She could remember her dreams clearly, but before that was a blur.  
  
"Oh thank God you're all right. You wouldn't wake up for so long!" Violet whispered. Fern could see that she'd been crying.  
  
Just like Morgan. Why was everyone crying over her? She was fine.  
  
"I'm fine Violet. What happened?" She asked as memories flooded back to her.  
  
"You just passed out and I couldn't wake you up," Violet replied shaking her head in despair. "You were out cold and-and that was twenty minutes ago. Your parents are out and I didn't want to call an ambulance so-so I tried to wake you."  
  
Violet began to cry again and Fern took her hand.  
  
"Shhh, I'm okay now," she said soothingly, but all of their conversation had returned to her. "I passed out when you told me Morgan was a vampire, didn't I?"  
  
She said it completely calmly and without a hint of fear or hysteria. It didn't shock her any more-she knew what he was. She had known it when she was on the gallows and in her deathbed, but it didn't scare her. Morgan cared about her too much to hurt her-she had seen his face when she was dying.  
  
Violet was speechless at Fern's calm composure.  
  
"It's okay-I'm not frightened. I'm not frightened on the fact that vampires exist or the fact that Morgan's one," Fern said. She had been through too much to be scared of it. She had died twice in the space of half an hour for God's sake.  
  
"You-you're not?" Violet asked amazed.  
  
Fern shook her head.  
  
"But Morgan will hurt you Fern. He's let you die before! I know you won't understand what I'm talking about but-"  
  
"I understand. And he couldn't do anything to save me those last times."  
  
"What?"  
  
"In my past lives-I understand it all. I dreamt about them just now-I saw my deaths," Fern whispered. She had realised what her dreams had been. Past lives. Now that she knew that vampires and witches existed past lives didn't seem that crazy.  
  
"I see . . ." Violet whispered, "and what did you see?"  
  
Fern took a deep breath and thought back to when she was on the gallows. "I was hanged first time round. I don't know why, but everyone wanted me dead. Morgan couldn't have done anything-it was him against a hundred."  
  
Violet said nothing.  
  
Fern continued. "And the second time I was sick-really sick. Morgan couldn't cure me. Well he could have made me into a vampire but neither of us wanted that."  
  
Violet laughed in disbelief.  
  
"Are you that stupid Fern?" She cried shaking her head.  
  
Fern was shocked.  
  
"I know Morgan. And he was personally told me that he is going to kill you this time. He can't rest while your soul lives so he's going to put an end to you. He's going to make sure that you are completely gone and can't come back-other things have done his dirty work in the past."  
  
Fern tried not to cry as these words were thrown at her. "When-when did he say this?"  
  
"I met him in Paris over the summer. I asked him what he was doing and he said looking for a girl. A girl called Fern with hair the colour of chestnut and eyes the colour of emeralds."  
  
Fern was speechless. People had always commented on how her eyes reminded them of the precious jewel.  
  
Violet was still talking. "Of course I said nothing about you-I knew what he was. I used to know a vampire so I could easily recognise one and I knew he was no good. He explained that he needed to kill you so his mind could be at rest, that he always had you in his mind while you lived. He'll kill you. And now he knows you're here."  
  
For some strange reason Fern believed her. It made sense. In an odd way it made sense. She had to figure out a way to stop him. Then she remembered something else Violet had told her.  
  
"You said I was a witch," she grabbed Violet's hand tightly and looked at her pleadingly.  
  
"Yes. You're a lost witch. You're adopted so you had no idea of your heritage, but you're definitely a witch," Violet smiled reassuringly and gripped Fern's hand back.  
  
Fern had only found out that she was adopted three years ago-when she was twelve. It had been a shock to say the least.  
  
"I know all about your heritage, but I've only been positive recently," Violet continued, "but with your powers you can easily send Morgan away."  
  
Fern ignored this last bit. "Tell me about my heritage."  
  
"Well first of all there's this thing called the Night World. It's a secret society of vampires, witches and shapeshifters . . ."  
  
They talked deep into the night.  
  
***  
  
What had she been doing there? Morgan thought angrily as he paced the small motel room. That . . . girl . . . why was she there?  
  
He sat down on the lumpy bed and placed his head in his hands. How was he supposed to get to Fern with that girl around? Violet would probably tell Fern everything about him . . . but not everything about herself.  
  
Perfect Violet Hawthorn, the girl who had had every male in Paris attending to her every whim over the summer. The girl whose beauty was renown over the world-well the Night World.  
  
He could picture her clearly-long raven hair, startling violet eyes, skin so pale that it seemed translucent, stunning figure and a smile to make a guy weak at the knees.  
  
But what was her beauty compared to Fern's? Fern who had a look of wisdom about her-a look of pure nature that she could have been mistaken for Gaia herself. Violet's was superficial and outwardly whereas Fern's was so much deeper and wonderful that it made Morgan beam simply thinking of her.  
  
She had been in his mind every waking moment for the past three hundred and fifty years, and her spirit even longer. Even before she had been born as Fern Harman her soul had haunted him, telling him of their connection even though she was not in physical form. But he had known straight away when she had been born-it had just taken him sixteen years to find her. But she had been killed as soon as he had found her.  
  
He tried to push the awakening memories away and focus on the Fern of now. The Fern who he had to get to by any means necessary.  
  
Why hadn't Violet told him that she knew Fern? Why had she kept it from him? He wanted to simply kill that raven haired girl.  
  
No, his mind told him. You've found Fern now-forget about that other girl. Fern is the only one that matters now.  
  
A picture of her came into his mind. Her wisps of chestnut hair, her eyes the colour of emeralds in the sun, her lightly tanned skin and her cheeks that grew ever so slightly pink when she was embarrassed.  
  
Sure, she wasn't the material for the most popular girl in school, but in Morgan's eyes she was the very essence of perfection. She had a look about her of sheer knowledge from all her previous lives, although she probably knew nothing of them.  
  
But she did know something of them. It had been her voice calling to him from her dreams hadn't it? It had been her voice that had dragged him back into the memories surely? Of course it was. She had witnessed two of her deaths. Not all, but certainly two. He had tried to get to her in her first dream, to comfort her, to hold her, to prevent the stool from falling from beneath her . . . but he had been too late in hearing her voice-she would have seen him simply standing there at her hanging. Why hadn't he done something all those years ago? Why hadn't he rushed up there like a knight in shining armor to rescue his damsel in distress?  
  
You were out numbered a hundred to one-it wasn't your fault, he told himself but he still had his doubts.  
  
The second time he had arrived far too late-she had practically gone by the time he heard her pleas. She had been so young, too young to die. But disease was deadly in those days-there was nothing to be done.  
  
But surely a child of twelve should not have been allowed to die. Surely her parents could have performed some sort of spell to restore her health, even if they did not know of the witchcraft in their veins. Surely they could have-  
  
Surely you could have changed her, a voice laughed bitterly in his head.  
  
No, answered another, I did not want her like that. I knew she would come back eventually-there was no need to make her into a vampire.  
  
But she died and you were left alone for nearly a hundred years thinking only of her and longing for her return, the cruel voice laughed maliciously.  
  
"Shut up!" He cried out loud, knocking a side table over with a mere slap of his hand. He watched as the lamp ricocheted off the ground, only halting when it reached the opposite wall.  
  
He stared in horror at one of the items that had fallen to the floor. He picked it up carefully and held it to his chest. It could have been damaged, he rebuked himself, you careless fool!  
  
He stared lovingly down at the small portrait in his hand. He had taken it from her house in England in the nineteenth century. It had been painted not long before she had died and even though she was merely a child he still found her gloriously beautiful. It had been the only thing to remind him of her in his time alone.  
  
But now he had the real thing, alive and well, in the same town as where he was. He couldn't bare being from her when they were so close.  
  
But she's with Violet you know that, he told himself, you can't just go barging into her house. You have to catch her when she's alone . . .  
  
Right, he thought and placed the portrait carefully of the table that he'd turned upright.  
  
He'd search for her in the morning; there was nothing more to do that night.  
  
He fell asleep with her image clearly in his mind. She had a bright aura around her-like that of an angel.  
  
***  
  
Well that's chapter three-hope you enjoyed it. I'll try to update as soon as possible but I'm also writing a Tolkien fanfic at the moment so bare with me! (Anyone who likes LOTR/Silmarillion check out my fics- there'll be more to come!)  
  
Anyway PLEASE review . . . I won't update until I've gotten more! Hahaha! No, seriously PLEASE review. Thank you! Nienna x x x 


	4. Connections

Disclaimer: All of L J Smith's characters/ideas belong to her but MY characters belong all to me!  
  
Note: Sorry that it took so long! Thank you for all reviews so far, please keep them coming! Well, with no further ado, here is the new chapter of 'May she never rest' . . . 'Connections'.  
  
Connections  
  
Fern sat staring out of the window at the grey, colourless sky. The bus bumped along the road, through the streets of identical, dull houses towards the center of the town, Harrowton. Fern had only been to this town a couple of times before-she had never thought that there was anything at all interesting to do there. For all she had known, there were dozens of residential streets and one main shopping street with a couple of convenience stores. But she had been wrong.  
  
Violet had told her about a store in the heart of the town. It was disguised as a shop with sold herbal remedies and essential oils etc. but apparently there was a major occult store behind the front shop. So Fern was skipping a day off school (without the knowledge of her parents) and was travelling by bus to this store-to get ingredients for a spell.  
  
She needed protection from Morgan, Violet had insisted on it. She had to send Morgan away, she could never see him again, she could never look into his beautiful eyes or upon his amazing face . . .  
  
"Stop it, Fern," she whispered to herself, "he'll hurt you. Who cares if he's drop dead gorgeous?"  
  
But it wasn't just that. She had felt so much for him before Violet had explained how he was . . . evil. Evil. It was such a funny word to use. The word 'evil' was generally associated with evil witches who lived in gingerbread houses and who captured princesses-it was a word for fairy tales. But Fern was in a sort of fairy tale. She was a witch, who was being hunted by a vampire. That was fantasy enough.  
  
But she had felt a connection and she had wanted him . . . he couldn't be bad, not someone who was connected to her in such a way.  
  
'A connection that is going to get you killed,' she rebuked herself, inside her head this time.  
  
Fern had to accept it-Morgan wanted her dead. He would never find peace until she was dead. He might love her, but he was planning to kill her. And she couldn't let that happen.  
  
***  
  
Morgan walked up the stone stairs briskly, rubbing his hands together. He wasn't cold-he was never cold-but he was nervous. Excited, but nervous. He entered the corridor and looked for a sighed indicating the location of the office. It was eleven-fifteen, Fern would be in class, but he would be able to get her out of it. He found the office door and knocked on it three times.  
  
"Come in."  
  
He entered the small office, closing the door behind him. Before him was a mahogany desk and behind it sat a middle-aged woman with badly applied make up.  
  
She smiled at him, obviously intrigued by the gorgeous young man who had just entered.  
  
"How may I help you?" She asked sweetly, flicking her unnatural blonde hair.  
  
He smiled back, humouring her. "I'm looking for Fern Harper. I'm her cousin and I'm afraid that there's been a bit of a problem at home. Could she be pulled out of class please?"  
  
The woman locked overly sympathetic, looking through the school registers and timetable. "I hope it's nothing too serious."  
  
He shook his head sadly. "We hope it won't be."  
  
She smiled and turned back to the paper before her. "Fern Harper will be in . . . History at the moment-oh wait a moment-" she looked over other sheets of paper, a confused expression across her face, "I'm afraid that she isn't in today, well she wasn't at registration at least."  
  
Morgan's heart fell. She wasn't there. He should have known it, and now that he did, the place just didn't feel right. It was obvious that she wasn't there-she was far away. Violet wasn't there either.  
  
"Thank you for your time," he said, hurrying out of the office, ignoring the confused protests from the woman.  
  
He made his way quickly out of the school and down the steps. She wasn't in school and she was too far away to be at home. Was she at Violet's? He stopped walking and searched for her with his mind-it normally worked.  
  
Suddenly it came to him, as if it had been pointed out of a map. She was heading for the occult shop in Harrowton.  
  
***  
  
Violet tapped on the door gently, her manicured nails painted a deep red today. From the other side of the door came sounds of approach and a latch being lifted. The door opened slightly, but a chain still connected it to the door frame.  
  
"Y-yes? I mean-p-password?" A small voice called out.  
  
"Maiden, mother, crone. Come on Bella, I don't have all day," Violet sighed irritably.  
  
A pale hand pulled the chain away and opened the door. The room was small and dark, with only candles for light. Incense filled the air, making Violet splutter.  
  
"Jesus, Bella, you've gone a bit heavy on the incense this time," Violet sneered, walking in uninvited.  
  
The girl, looked down sheepishly. "Oh-come in Violet."  
  
"I am in Bella and I don't need your permission."  
  
Bella was a small girl with frizzy red curls and dark eyes. She was seventeen but looked much younger, making her an easy target for the beautiful Violet.  
  
Violet sat down on a dark purple, velvet chair and looked around her. "Wow, Bella, I'm impressed. This must be the biggest dump in town."  
  
She smiled cruelly at the girl and put on a mockingly patronizing voice. "Do you actually know the meaning of the word 'clean' or do I need to explain it to you?"  
  
Bella looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment. "I- I'm always glad of your advice, Violet. B-but I have been very busy lately- "  
  
Violet snorted. "Busy?" she sneered, "do you think that sitting around all day and performing silly love spells qualifies you to be called 'busy'? No. Sitting around plotting how to kill someone qualifies you to be called busy."  
  
Bella went even paler. "Kill someone?"  
  
Violet rolled her eyes. "Yes, Bella, I'm planning to kill someone," she sighed, but an evil glint appeared in her eyes, "and I need your help."  
  
Bella shook her head furiously. "Oh no, Violet, no. I am not going to kill someone! I don't do that!"  
  
"But you're the cleverest witch I know, Bella, I really need you help," she whispered in a sickly sweet voice.  
  
She got up and went over to the witch who was shaking madly. Violet raised her hand and stroked Bella's cheek gently, running her fingers down the pale jawbone and resting them gently upon the rose pink lips.  
  
"Please, Bella. I'm your friend, aren't I?" She whispered, a tear appearing in her eye, "or do I mean nothing to you?"  
  
Bella's eyes softened. "Oh, Violet-"  
  
"I mean, I know I've got a quick temper and-and I know that I can say horrible things, b-but you must know that I don't mean them," she interrupted, pacing quickly in front of Bella, "and I've always thought that we had a special sort of connection. You know what I mean? I've felt it ever since I met you and I'm sure that you felt it that day too."  
  
"Of course I did, but-"  
  
Violet interrupted her again. "I mean, I know it's silly, but I've always thought that you were, well, my soulmate. It should be able to apply to the same sex, shouldn't it? Oh please tell me that you feel the same Bella," she finished, pleading with the witch.  
  
Bella had tears in her eyes, but the expression on her face was one of pure joy and relief. "I've always felt it!"  
  
Bella flung her arms around Violet, who returned the embrace fully. Violet wasn't lying-she did feel some weird connection to Bella and maybe it was the soulmate principle. But she couldn't get sucked into it-it wasn't worth it.  
  
Eventually Violet slowly pulled away. "So will you help me Bella? Just this once?"  
  
Bella smiled. "Of course, I'd do anything for you."  
  
Violet smiled and actually felt touched, but she couldn't let herself get distracted. She had to make sure that Morgan never got to Fern.  
  
"What do you want me to do?" Bella asked, taking Violet's hand.  
  
"I'll tell you about the person I need to kill later, but firstly I need all the information that you have on Old Souls."  
  
***  
  
Fern stood outside the shop and stared into the window. It was called 'New Age Wonders' and the window was filled with books on yoga, meditation, oils etc. and other things like wind chimes and incense burners.  
  
She finally opened the door and entered the shop, followed by a small 'jingle' from the bell above the door. She looked around her-it was a small shop, but she couldn't see any door leading to a back room or anything. She stood for a couple of minutes wondering what to do, when a voice from behind her made her jump.  
  
"Can I help you?" A young girl with golden blond hair asked her. She was beautiful, as were all people of the Night World apparently, and Violet had said that only witches worked in the shop.  
  
"Uh . . .yes . . . unity," she stuttered, "I am looking for Selene, I am told that she works here."  
  
The golden headed with looked at her suspiciously, but finally nodded. "Yes, she's through the back. She's probably been expecting you."  
  
'Expecting me?' Fern wondered to herself, 'did she know that I was coming?'  
  
Fern was led to a curtain, which hung motionless upon the wall. The golden headed witch, stopped and pointed at the curtain.  
  
"Through there," she said and turned back towards the counter in the corner of the store.  
  
Fern stared at the curtain for some time. It was such a dark blue that in certain lights it would look black. It was very old, but Fern could still make out an embroided pattern. It was of dozens of tiny black flowers.  
  
'Dahlias most likely,' Fern assumed, 'Violet had said that that was the flower of witches.'  
  
Finally she pulled the curtain back and entered into the back room. As soon as she entered, she saw that it was a large room, much larger than the front store. It was very light, but not from sunlight, the light came from hundreds of candles scattered around the place.  
  
Fern looked around, but from where she was standing, she couldn't see anyone. There were half a dozen large books shelves standing in rows in front of her, each filled with a countless number of books. But there weren't only books. On the walls around her hung such a variety of things that it was an incredible feast for the eyes. From ram skulls to springs of herbs-everything was unique.  
  
"Um . . . hello?" She called, looking down the rows of books.  
  
A woman stood at the end one of the rows, hanging something on the wall. She had her back to Fern and she was wearing a long bluish cloak, which shimmered like silver when the fabric moved. The large hood was up, but strands of whitish hair flowed out from beneath it.  
  
'I hadn't realised that she was that old,' Fern wondered, shocked, 'I had expected a girl not much older than me.'  
  
"Uh . . . hi? Selene?" She called, approaching the hooded figure.  
  
She repeated her name a few times, but she got no reply. Finally, she tapped the woman firmly on the shoulder. The woman spun round, her hood falling as she did.  
  
Fern gasped.  
  
The woman wasn't old. She was only about a year older that Fern. She had even paler skin than Violet and her hair was white, but there was also a shimmer of blue running through it. Her hair was long and slightly wavy and it was the colour of moonlight. Moonlight-not a word you would associate with hair. But it was that colour and it was beautiful, but that wasn't the only thing. One of the girl's eyes stared normally at Fern, even if it was unusual for someone's iris to be practically black. But the other eye shocked Fern. There was no pupil-there was just one large iris, and, again, it was the colour of moonlight. No, in fact, it actually looked like the moon. And it didn't seem to look at Fern, it seemed to look through her. If that was possible.  
  
Fern stood staring at the girl in awe. She was the most beautiful thing that Fern had even lain eyes on.  
  
The girl smiled and took Fern's hand.  
  
"You must be Fern. I've been expecting you. I'm Selene." She spoke with such a beautifully clear voice that it was a pleasure just to hear her speak.  
  
"I-uh-yeah-" Fern tried to speak, but couldn't find anything to say to such a person.  
  
Selene laughed and Fern's heart was filled with immense joy. Her laugh was like the sound of moonlight upon running water-that was the only way that Fern could explain it.  
  
"Don't worry, everybody finds my appearance shocking at first, but they all get used to it eventually," she explained, leading Fern towards a large wooden table that stood in the corner of the room. They sat down at two chairs at either sides of the table. But before Selene did, she unclasped her cloak and hung it on a hook on the wall. This was the first time that Fern actually realised the weirdness of wearing a cloak.  
  
"Uh . . . if you don't mind me asking . . . can you actually see out of your right eye?" Fern whispered, her eye fixated on Selene's moon-like one.  
  
Selene smiled. "Not in the way that you mean by 'see'. It is blind to the normal world, but having this eye has given me the gift of foresight."  
  
"Foresight?" Fern repeated, confused.  
  
"Yes, foresight. To have the ability to see things before they actually happen, to have . . . premonitions, you might say. I often get quite strong ones. That is how I knew of your coming . . . and of your name," Selene said, still smiling.  
  
"You can see into the future?" Fern asked, amazed.  
  
Selene laughed. "You might say that, yes."  
  
Fern was astounded. Selene could actually see into the future . . . and she wasn't in some weird sci-fi TV show.  
  
"Many people have taken interested in my eye and the whole of my appearance. That is how I got my name, you see. Selene is the name if the Greek moon goddess and many say that I am a 'child of the moon' or 'mighty Selene herself in human form'. I don't see myself as a goddess, but I suppose that my appearance would intrigue people," Selene sighed.  
  
If another person had said that their appearance would 'intrigue' people, Fern would have passed them immediately off as conceited. But Selene wasn't like that at all. She was the kindest person that Fern had ever met.  
  
"I was even nicknamed 'Luna' as a child," she added, giggling.  
  
Fern smiled and joined in with the giggle.  
  
But Fern had to do what she came to do. "I need your help with something. I need to do a-"  
  
"You need to do a spell to protect yourself from this vampire . . . Morgan was it? Yes, Morgan."  
  
Fern was still amazed. Did she know that much?  
  
"Uh . . . yes. Can you help me?"  
  
"Of course. But are you sure that it's the right thing to do?" Selene asked with a touch of seriousness in her voice.  
  
Fern was confused. "What do you mean?"  
  
Selene sighed. "Well . . . I can't see that far forward, but are you sure that Morgan is going to hurt you? I can't see it in the near future."  
  
"He . . . he could be waiting for the right time," Fern assured herself, thinking of Violet's affirmed beliefs about Morgan.  
  
"If you're sure, then I will help you," Selene said with a strained smile, "I've got the perfect book for these sort of problems."  
  
She got up and went to the second nearest bookshelf and took out a book from one of the middle shelves. It looked quite old to Fern-the leather was faded and peeling.  
  
Selene flicked through the pages, seemed to find the one she was looking for, and held it open in front of Fern.  
  
" 'Ritual To Protect One From Harm From Another' . . . but-but I wanted to do one to send him away," Fern whispered. Well that was what Violet wanted.  
  
Selene smiled. "This one is just as good. It'll mean that he can't bring you any harm at all . . . well none that you don't want."  
  
"That I don't want? Why would I want him to harm me?" Fern cried, shocked.  
  
"Well he is a vampire and you are soulmates-it's not unheard of for soulmates to share blood-"  
  
"Ugh!" Fern interrupted, "I wouldn't want to-wait . . . what did you mean by 'soulmates'?"  
  
"Oh, you weren't told about the soulmate principle . . . that makes sense," she ended sadly.  
"No, what-" she began, but changed her mind-it could wait for later, "No, lets do the spell now."  
  
"As you wish," Selene sighed.  
  
***  
  
I'm soooooooooo sorry that it took so long. I have had sever writer's block! Well I hope you liked that and I'll try to update as soon as possible. Please review it! Please, please, please! I am down on my knees literally begging all you fine people. PLEEEEEEEEEEAAAAASSSSEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you : ) 


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